|Before: The old oak monstrosity.|
|After: The new, slimmer desk.|
I’ve had a new desk for months now. I got it on clearance for half off. But I haven’t been able to use it until today because the old desk — a solid wood behemoth with a cast-iron typewriter inside — was taking up the space. Had it been the kind of furniture (like the new desk) that breaks down, I would have taken it apart and whisked it off to the thrift store the day the new desk came home. However, having approximately the same dimensions as a bunk bed, and weighing approximately as much as a loaded chest freezer, I was unable to move it alone or to shove it into the back of the Volvo. We had been waiting for a nice day to heave it into the back of one of Matt’s trucks but: a) nice days are days on which Matt needs to be putting in long hours on his logging jobs, and b) what nice days? This is spring in the northwest — all it does it rain.
So yesterday, downpour be damned, Matt had finally had it with listening to me bitch about the old desk (and how much room it took up and all the bad memories associated with it) and with working around the still-boxed new desk (which, even in flat-pack form was about the same dimensions as the couch) so he backed Bruce into the driveway and dumped the old desk (end over end) into the bed.
|Neighbor Lee (in hooded Carhartt jacket) supervises Matt as he prepares to tie down the old desk — handcart and all — in the back of the truck known as Bruce.|
Somebody who has the room, the inclination to repair the water damaged veneer, and who likes old typewriters, is going to love that beast. I, however, love my new, slimmer desk. It’s just as wide as the old one but half as deep, which is perfect because we get some more walking space back in the living room and we used less than half the drawer space in the old desk. You can see in the top photos that the old desk protruded so far that it prevented us from getting around the end of the couch to reach the corner shelf. You can still see the dents in the carpet from the old desk’s feet.
P.S. I know that ready-to-assemble furniture has a bad reputation with some folks but I have never had a problem with it. When the dorks at the store build a display model they use about half of the recommended fasteners, which is why you may have the impression that this kind of furniture is rickety. No piece I have ever built has ever failed — nor do any of them squeak, rattle, pinch, list, or otherwise suck. Real wood furniture is nice, of course (There’s not much I wouldn’t do for a whole mortise and tenon crafstman living room set, made of 100% real teak and 0% glue or screws!), but real wood is prohibitively heavy and until I win the lottery it won’t be in my budget. Extra bonus: for some sick reason I love assembling this stuff.